


The Testament of Silence

by starcaseballet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Draco Malfoy is a Good Parent, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, Just give these boys a hug dammit, Mute scorpius, Other, Scorpius Malfoy & Albus Severus Potter Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 15:09:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20762399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcaseballet/pseuds/starcaseballet
Summary: It had been two weeks since Godric’s Hollow and Scorpius thought that he was fine. He wasn’t dead, that was always a substantial win in his book.But how fine could he be? The cruciatus curse had scarred him. But one thing was worse. One thing that he had always ignored for sanity’s sake. Her words.“ you talk too much child “and then the screams commenced.





	The Testament of Silence

"You talk too much child"  
and then- silence. That awful, singing siren of silence. And for a moment, the maze was completely still. Like in a book his mother used to read, her voice making the words spread their wings and fly. It was like he could see sunlight resting upon pale skin, and Albus against the hedges that were still, no longer seething with that hunger that drives men mad. It was too quiet, and Scorpius knew that he was right in thinking that. The words of the witch seemed like they were spoken years ago, echoes, memories, wisps of the spoken word that might not have been spoken at all. And he knew he was right. It was as if his thoughts had summoned them from the ground below- pins. Not pins, knives. No not knives, swords, driving into his legs. And back. And head. Parts that he didn’t even know could burn, burned. Tears that he didn’t even know could spill, spilled. He wanted his mum. Please, he just wanted his mum. 

And he opened his mouth to scream the sad song of agony- but the melody was replaced with silence. 

. 

It had been two weeks since the maze and Scorpius thought that he was fine. In fact Scorpius thought he was good, in fact Scorpius thought that was great. He wasn’t dead, that was always a substantial win in his book; he and his dad were fixing each other, slowly, but they both seemed a little less damaged around each other; and Rose said "things will only be wierd if you let them be wierd". He didn’t really know what that meant but it wasn’t insulting so thumbs up. It had been two weeks until he remembered. 

It wasn’t he pain he had forgotten , that was etched into his mind. How couldn’t it be? The pain was temporary but it felt like the screaming had never stopped. His lungs, silent as they might be, were always heaving as if preparing themselves for something worse. Because to breathe is to be alive and to be alive is to feel pain. His lungs would not let him give up. No, what he had forgotten in that fortnight was her words. Words, sticks and stones were one and the same when it came to Delphini Riddle, and how he wished they weren’t. Because he never cared for her, not really. He was the tag along, the thing that she needed around so that she could manipulate Albus properly. He wasn’t necessary but he was oh so important. He wanted to feel no emotion towards her. He couldn’t feel sorry, not when she’d painted that flash of trauma into Albus’ eyes, but he didn’t want to feel hate. He couldn’t let that emotion taint him. She was not worth that. 

“ You talk too much “ , it was Rose. Rose Granger Weasley who he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut about, around and in front of. Rose Granger Weasley who was the unfortunate subject of many failed attempts of chivalry and charm. Rose Granger Weasley who he somehow felt obliged to dig himself into the bread hole for each time he ran into her on the staircases even though he knew that that conversation was years ago and there was no way in the name of Dumbledore that he would ever recover. 

And Scorpius’ tensed. 

Where before he was doing that slouch thing he had kind of adopted when he was eleven, and talking with the awkward half flirty half embarrassing ease that he spoke around her; he straightened up and froze. And he was still, until his left leg started shaking on the step it was resting on. He was still until his lungs started heaving again, pounding loudly against his ribcage. And that’s where he was going to stay until it came; tall, willing and scared. Except the pain didn’t come. The pins didn’t shoot up his legs and his head didn’t burn and the knife twisting his insides never showed itself. And the only red around was the red of Rose’s tie. 

But it was enough. He had learned his lesson. He couldn’t even see her face flooded with worry as he turned around and left in silence. 

.

Scorpius didn’t come to bed last night. And where that may be a common occurrence with Albus, Scorpius was not a night owl. Yes, he woke up in the middle of the night from nightmares or woke up in the middle of the night from Albus’ nightmares, but this time he didn’t come to bed at all. Albus looked everywhere: the common room, the library, he asked the teachers, he searched the bathrooms and the hospital wing and even ventured far enough out to the quidditch pitch. Scorpius was no where to be found and now Albus was down ten fingernails from biting them all off in worry. Apart from the other dorms and common rooms and the head’s office, there had only been one place that Albus hadn’t bothered searching. The girls’ bathroom on the first floor. Not that he was scared to go in there. No, but Albus knew that Scorpius was always slightly intimidated by Myrtle. You see Scorpius got excited, and Scorpius also let his words run away with themselves and Myrtle was a little bit touchy with him the last time they met. Malfoy the unanxious was still an awkward goofball and he should be smart enough to know that Myrtle’s hole could always be dug deeper. 

But Albus was getting scared. And Albus was getting desperate. So Albus swallowed his assumptions and and set off for the girl’s bathroom on the first floor. 

What kept the girls away from it was the crying and the moaning and the wailing and the random flushes of unused toilets and the flooding of the sinks not to mention the entrance to the chamber of secrets and of course, the high pitched, low spirited ghost who could pass through walls and therefore, toilet doors. And this was no different as Albus approached the long unused door to the bathroom. Except it wasn’t. If there was one thing that Albus knew about the school from his dad, it was that Moaning Myrtle liked to cause a scene. Albus half felt sorry for her, it must be so lonely being dead in a school that decided it hates you. Unfortunately that pity slightly diminished when he became subject to her flirting and wailing that still made his ears ring when he thought about it. 

These cries weren’t Myrtles.

And Albus’ stomach dropped. He had set out to find Scorpius, and as much as he hated himself for wishing this, he half wished that he hadn’t even tried. Because anything would be better than opening that door and seeing his best friend curled up on the floor of a long unused toilet cubicle sobbing his eyes out quietly. Myrtle watched him, for a second Albus could see empathy in her face. If translucent faces could even show empathy. 

For a second Albus was lost, watching from the outside. You see, Albus was so used to seeing Scorpius as he was. Because Scorpius was willing to show Albus what he was. So happy to prove that he wasn’t a monster, so proud to have a friend to see him as clear as day and still want to associate with him.   
But here Albus was watching from the outside. He felt like he was miles away, a fourth wall repelling him from taking a step into the beautiful tragic picture of a fourteen year old boy crying to himself. 

The door snapped Albus out of it. What opens must shut again and it was loud. Too loud that it had disturbed the tranquility of the crying boy on the floor. So loud that Albus jumped, reality swinging back into life. 

Myrtle without so much as a characteristic huff left down the drain of a neighbouring toilet and Albus and Scorpius were left alone. 

Scorpius was looking up at him until he curled up tighter and rubbed his eyes. Albus could see relief, even from the flash of that look that Albus had been so lucky to catch. His face softened from onlooker to guilt to worry to anger to heartbreak as he lowered himself down to the floor and pulled Scorpius in for a hug. 

Albus knew that Scorpius was . . . odd , when it came to hugs. But it had seemed to have gotten better after Godric’s Hollow, a silver lining to come out of all the pain. Albus suspected it was because of Draco. He had never seen his best friend be so physically affectionate with anyone until he had broken that distance between him and his dad. After that first hug, they were inseparable. In the week following where the two boys sat in a room with their parents and talked about the whole story, Draco sat close to his son and his hand didn’t once leave his shoulder. It was as if touch was a language that neither of them needed to speak. It was a way for Scorpius to say what he needed to say when words occasionally got caught up in his throat. 

And Albus could feel that secret language there and then, because Scorpius tightened his grip. Because Scorpius knew that if he didn’t, he would fall. Head buried into Albus’ shoulder, he didn’t look down. He didn’t want to see how far he was in danger of falling. 

Eventually Albus had to let go. He could’ve sat there for hours letting Scorpius’ touch tell him about every nook and cranny working in his best friend’s brain and heart, but he couldn’t stay there forever. He couldn’t be part of an everlasting picture of beautiful tragedy. Two broken boys sitting on the floor clinging to each other until they are both forced to fall. No, Albus was determined to grab Scorpius’ hand and bust him through that fourth wall into the happy world of sunshine and rainbows that Scorpius deserved. 

So he pulled away, worry hardly concealed on his face, and held him gently by the shoulders as if he could crumble forwards at any minute. 

“ Scorpius what happened ? Scorpius please speak to me “

but wordlessly, the boy in front of him shook his head.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first attempt at fanfic writing so please do not judge me too harshly. I love these characters and I love throwing myself into their minds. Here are just a few things I would like to clear up.
> 
> \- I don’t ship Scorpius and Rose but hey , if you want to see parts of this as scorose, knock yourself out.
> 
> \- this could just be an angsty one shot but I did leave some wriggle room for more of a story so let me know if you would like that.
> 
> \- if you see any spelling and grammar mistakes juuuust tell me please. 
> 
> \- feedback is always appreciated


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